Southern standard. (McMinnville, Tenn.) 1879-current, 1887-07-16
RAGGED TIM.
BY ELLA EUGENE ELLIS.


slowly. Probably this was due to his
lack of ambition he seemed to care
very little about life.
To warm himself when cold, and
to eat when hungry, was his notion
CT living, and beyond that, he had
little thought. Every day he saw
thousands of people pass by looking
comfortable and happy; but helook-
ed upon them with neither envy nor
ambition. He thought they belonged
to a different world from his.
Tom Jones, who used to be called
barefoot Tom until he earned his first
pair of shoes, said of Tim, " Ragged
Tim has been no good since his moth
err died. He amt the same Teller,
and Pm feared he'll be Ragged Tim
till he dies if he don't be a little
more spry. Why Ilse been half way
'cross the street and had hollered
shine to a gentleman I've seen COM
ing along before Ragged Tim could
turn around and get his hands out of
his pockets !"
Ragged Tim got his name from the
other bootblacks, and it fitted him
perfectly. His mother had been
dead two years, and as there was no
one who cared enough for him to
patch and darn his clothes, they nat
urally presented a very tattered APP
pearance; so the boys called him
Ragged Tim, not because they
thought it any disgrace to be sure, for
every n of them was poor when he
began, though many Of them had
money in the bank now, but their
clothes were kept neatly mended by
kind mothers or sisters, and did not
look so ragged as poor Tins.
One day Tim was feeling unusually
disconsolate and friendless. He owed
old Mary Jane for two weeks rent
for the attic room, where he slept,
and she had threatened to "turn him
out" if he did not pay her pretty
soon. 1t was miserable shelter-this
attic, with great holes in the roof,
that let in the rain and snow, and
there were many broken window
panes, through which the wind
whiStled diSmally. But it was his
home, and all the home he had known
since he was too young to remem-
Der anything clearly.
He felt hungry today, for he had
gone to bed supperless, and had eat
en- nothing since, and when Tim was
hungry he felt miserable. He was
looking about eagerly for customers,
for the pennies must be earned to
pay Mary Jane, or he would be
obliged to seek shelter in the street
all night.
Presently he saw a gentleman APP
preaching with a little girl by his
side. A sweet little girl it was, too,
and even Tim could not help motto
ing what a merry, kind little face it
was that looked out from the red
plush bonnet. She held a little bou-
quet of dollhouse flowers in her hand,
and every now and then she buried
her dainty little nose in them to en-,
Joy their sweet perfume.
When her eyes fell upon poor tat
tered Tim, who was wistfully look
ing towards her, she whispered to
her father:
Papa, don't your boots need
shining? l think they do" and as
papa was of the same mind, Tim was
supplied with a customer, Vigorous
ly he brushed away, doing his very
best, for the bright-eyed little girl
was watching him, and what boy
will not do his best when a pretty
little maiden is looking at him?
When he had finished and received
his scents, the little girl plucked pink
rosebud from her bouquet and hold
ing it towards him said: Poor boy,
would you like a rosebud ." and
Tim b%lushingly murmured "Thank
yer, Miss" and took it. When the
little girl had passed on, he look
ed upon'the delicate little bud with
mingled admiration for its beauty
and pain for the thoughts it awaken
ed of his dear mother who was fond
of flowers. If he only knew where
to find her grave, he would lay the
little bud upon it. But they. had
carried the dear form away while he
was out earning a few pennies to buy
a bunch of flowers to place in the
cold dead fingers and he did not
know where to find her and no one
could tell him.
He pinned the rosebud to his
ragged coat, and a great contrast il